Defensive Maneuvers: Failed
by Fairady
Summary: Holidays are never kind to those unprepared for them.
1. Identify the Problem

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: So, there's a prequel leading up to Quistis getting her gift. Here's the first part of it, second to follow soon.

Defensive Maneuvers: Failed  
by Fairady

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Step One: Identify the problem

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Irvine was proud of his abilities. It'd taken time and effort to not only be a good marksman, but to also make it look as easy as he made it seem.

Strengthening arm and shoulder muscles to be able to take the kick of any caliber weapon _just_ so he wouldn't flinch back like an amateur. Putting himself through hellacious obstacle courses designed to test his concealment skills, because how embarrassing would it be for a _sniper_ to be spotted? Running several miles a day because there was no point in being a sniper if he was caught getting away. His training was every bit as grueling as Zell or Squall's and he was damn proud of it.

Though all of it paled in comparison to the sheer effort and research that went into his understanding of the female gender.

It was a touchy skill at best. Irvine would freely admit, if only to himself, that even he didn't fully understand women. Even after years of false starts, stinging cheeks, and awkward misunderstandings Irvine knew that being able to successfully predict women was something that was beyond any man's ability. He'd been forced to be content in merely understanding them most of the time.

Which was why Irvine simply held the door as a visibly fuming Rinoa stormed past him. The little princess was cute when she was mad like that, but it wasn't worth the inevitable retaliation to flirt with her. Letting the door swing shut Irvine turned his attention to Squall.

Squall stared at the now closed door, face blank except for a small furrow between his eyebrows. Close association with the man -and the way his relationship with Rinoa often turned- allowed Irvine to interpret it as being slack-jawed shock and utter confusion.

"So," Irvine drew the word out as he settled himself onto the plush black chair that he _knew_ Squall didn't like. Fourth fight this week he'd walked in on between the lovebirds, and it was shaping up to be the _sixth_ time he'd had to give Squall advice. He was tempted to just write his name on the chair and claim it as his. "What's up?"

Squall stared at the door a moment longer. Puzzling it out for himself and gathering the words to communicate it with Irvine. "She yelled at me."

"Yeah?" Irvine rolled his eyes. Sure he agreed with Quisty, Squall _had_ gotten better at talking. Didn't mean that having an actual conversation with him wasn't like pulling teeth. "Got that when I heard the screaming comin' off the elevator. What'd she yell about this time?"

"Flowers."

"Flowers," Irvine repeated when Squall showed no sign of continuing. "What do flowers got to do with anything?"

Squall got that baffled look again, "They were Quistis' flowers."

"Quisty got flowers?" Irvine laughed. The last person who'd tried that had spent a week in the infirmary getting his delicate bits defrosted. "What'd she do to him?"

"Nothing. Rinoa said they were from a secret admirer," Squall said with a slight smile of his own. Probably remembering all the gil he'd won on the bet they'd all had going for how long it'd take the poor guy to thaw.

Irvine whistled, impressed despite himself. Someone out there had a serious set of brass balls. Quisty was worse on all her secret admirers. She'd once confessed that she had to be or she wouldn't be able to get anything done from having to deal with the deluge of gifts she'd inevitably get.

Smile fading Squall continued, "Rinoa kept saying they were nice and sweet. That she'd never been given flowers like that before."

"Yeah?" Irvine winced, already seeing where the conversation was headed. "Lemme guess, you ignored her."

"They were Quistis' flowers," Squall said tonelessly, clearly baffled by the nuances he wasn't grasping. Or even _seeing_. "Next thing I know she's saying I'm a horrible boyfriend and storming out."

"Ah, she was tryin' to get flowers out of _you_," Irvine had actually been expecting something far worse from Rinoa's volume. Just a little nerves about their first Valentine's Day could be fixed pretty easily. Even Squall could manage it, given the right type of coaching. "Listen, women like to feel special. 'specially around this time of the year. Even if you love her and she knows it, you still gotta take her out to dinner and buy her pretty little things. Just because you're dating don't mean you can slack on that."

"Do I have to buy her roses now?" Squall asked after a long moment of silence.

Irvine adjusted his hat and admitted to himself that he might have been hoping for too much. "Squall, I've got the feelin' you're going to need a lot more than just a dozen flowers to get back into the Princess' good graces."

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	2. Formulate a Plan

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Part two.

Defensive Maneuvers: Failed  
by Fairady

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Step Two: Formulating a Plan

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This was more than he'd bargained for.

"No," Irvine said for what felt like the thousandth time.

"But you said girls like cute things!" Zell visibly looked as frustrated as Irvine felt. Which was only fair since Zell was the main cause of his frustration. "How much cuter can you get than a stuffed chocobo?"

"First off, a stuffed toy is what you get the kid sister for Valentines," Irvine yanked the toy away. "Secondly, this is for a boy," he pointed at the blue Rock my Soxs shirt it wore. "Not to mention tacky."

Zell deflated, "Why's this got to be so hard anyway?"

"Because it's women," Irvine tossed the toy back onto the rather bare shelf and looked around. The store was stripped almost bare and men of all ages jostled each other as they scoured what was left for the best gift to get for that one day they'd all clearly forgotten about. He looked back as Zell pulled out a stuffed Marlboro and considered it thoughtfully.

"You're not getting that for your sweetheart, are you?" Irvine asked, hoping like hell he wasn't because playing love guru to Squall was bad enough.

"Nah, I already got her something," Zell continued to sift through the barrel of stuffed toys. "Some chocolates and flowers."

Better than a stuffed hotdog, but still... "Kind of plain gifts, Zell."

"Hey, I got it covered! The chocolates're homemade!"

"That what the package says?"

"Haha, jackass," Zell threw a misshapen cactuar at Irvine. "No, they're shaped like roses. I made them by hand and boxed them myself."

Irvine really doubted that. Zell's idea of culinary genius was to put hot sauce on a dish before reheating it. He smirked and waited for Zell to discard the plastic monkey to say, "So, Ma Dincht made you chocolate."

"Doesn't mean I didn't help!" Zell immediately retorted.

Irvine angled his hat up to stare at Zell.

"I did1"

Irvine waited.

"Testing out the batches totally counts as helping!" Zell held up two catepilleries defensively. "I poured the molds!"

Irvine smirked, "Did ya lick the bowl too?"

"Yes," Zell turned back to the barrel. He had to bend to dig deeper. "The flowers are all me though. She doesn't really like getting cut flowers, so I ordered her some potted Galbadian Lillies. What'd you get Selphie?"

"Ah," Irvine pulled the brim of his hat back down low over his eyes in a way he'd been reassured looked very mysterious. "A gentleman never tells."

"Right," Zell heaved an armful of animals onto the floor. "So that five pound bag of refined sugar in your room is for coffee?"

"That's for me," Irvine admitted. "How else do you think I'll be able to keep up with her on a day when everyone's gonna be feeding her hard candy?"

"Good point," Zell gave up on the now empty barrel and turned away from it. "Terrifying point."

Irvine looked at the thinning crowd, "Where'd Squall get to?"

"I think Seifer was trying to convince him to buy Rin an apron," Zell picked up a sorry looking stuffed heart pillow. Stuffing came out of the sides giving it a lopsided appearance. Noticing Irvine's alarmed look he hastily added, "Even Squall's not _that_ clueless though. Right?"

"Zell," Irvine plucked the pillow away. "_You_ set them up in the first place. You know better than any of us exactly how hopeless Squall is."

"Right," Zell spun on his heel and began to march away, "I saw them go this way."

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Squall wasn't a complete idiot, he knew better than to trust Seifer when he started throwing out terms like "trust me", "it'll be easy", or "watch this." A short but error filled life with the ass had taught him these lessons well. Even knowing this, Squall couldn't really find fault with the gift.

"It's blue!" Seifer waved the apron like a flag, making the cloth snap. "She'll love it, trust me."

The apron was blue, it also had white dog prints going across the front. It was useful and pretty enough, and he could recall three separate occasions where Rinoa had admired Ma Dincht's apron. She'd even said how it would be useful for her to have one just like it. Despite his gnawing gut reaction to Seifer using the word trust, Squall couldn't think of a better present.

Seifer grinned, unceremoniously plopping the apron into Squall's arms. "See? Told ya I could find something that'd work."

"Sure," Irvine walked up with Zell in tow and paused to eye the apron. "If by work you mean sending Squall to the permanent doghouse, then yeah, that'd work just fine."

"What?" Seifer protested immediately, but with a poorly hidden grin that made Squall immediately apologize to his gut instinct. "Princess'll love it! It's blue, and look at the paw prints."

Wary as he was, Squall was compelled to speak up for it, "She's said she wanted one."

"Go ahead and buy it then, just wait a bit before giving it to her," Irvine snatched the apron out of his hands and held it out like it pained him to be near the cloth. "I'm going to tell you this once and only once, Squall, because you're my friend. A very dear and very clueless friend. Never, ever give a woman kitchen equipment as a holiday gift. It might be useful and it might be something she wants, but if you give this to her tomorrow..." Irvine slowly shook his head, free hand drawing a thumb slowly across his throat.

"Dude," Zell said with uncharacteristic solemnity, "even I know better than that. Girls think you're saying they should stay in the kitchen or something when you do that."

It made sense when put that way. Just another layer of complication he really didn't need. He turned a glare on Seifer.

"Oh, come off it," Seifer as usual was completely unrepentant. "It's a good gift and Rin wouldn't mind it. She's not expecting anything from lover boy here so her expectations are already as low as they can get."

"Really?" Irvine tilted his hat back and arched one eyebrow. "And how do you know that?"

Seifer shrugged as he began to wander around the store. Poking at the odds and ends still littering the shelves. "Rin gets upset? She goes straight for her friends to vent, damn whoever else might be there." Seifer picked up an eye searing mug with hearts on it. "Got an earful all about it along with Quistis and Selphie yesterday."

"Ouch," Zell unearthed a horrid pink bow from a tangle of cellophane.

"Yep," Seifer stole the bow and wrapped it around the mug handle and then stepped back to admire his work. The combination was hideous. Seifer turned a grin onto Squall. "You know how she gets. Blows up hot and cools down before the day's over. She isn't even mad over it anymore."

"That's an advantage," Irvine flipped the apron neatly over his arm, "but you're still not giving this to her tomorrow."

"Then what," Squall said looking around the decimated store, "exactly is left?"

Zell looked around blankly. Seifer studied the mug with a deviously thoughtful look and Squall reminded himself -again- not to listen to him. Irvine was silent, looking at the floor for several seconds before a slow grin spread across his face. "Alright, I've got a plan."

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End file.
